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5.27.2008

For Jason, Who Hates Me Now

after Medea

We were such little animals then,all paws and teeth and eyes.We made a tree house of our leafy loveand together pulled up the basket.Each night you burst into flames.By morning the leaves were black lace,the floorboards damp with dew, and Ibreathed ashes with every dawn.Through charred branches the sunrise showed meopen fields, trees without scars. Daisiesunafraid to smile.

And yet, years later, you smolder.My fingers have grown long and nimble;I know now the secrets of enchantment. Eyeliner. Backbone. Magic we could nothave imagined. And yet, inthis cool night, in a mass of my ownnow-dark hair, the tendrils in my chestreach skyward, hopeful.